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Wolffe looked at himself in the mirror, and as hard as he tried, he found that he couldn't look away. His hand gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white from the strain.
"Commander Wolffe. It is good to see you back safely."
He stared into the eyes of his reflection, feeling his breath slowly begin to quicken.
"I- I tried, General. I really tried, but- I'm sorry, I wasn't good enough-"
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Wolffe."
He couldn't stop looking at that eye. The eye he gave him. He owed his entire life to that man and yet-
And yet it was all his fault. It was Wolffe who had gotten the order. Wolffe who'd relayed it to the rest of the Wolfpack. Wolffe who pulled the trigger and watched with satisfaction as the starfighter careened towards the ground.
The General was dead.
"You and your brothers mean the world to me."
Plo Koon was the closest thing he had to a father.
And Wolffe killed him.
It wasn't until recently that he'd finally been allowed to miss him. It'd been months before the Empire finally decided it was better to have thinking soldiers over mindless drones and turned the chip off. Wolffe couldn't count how many had swallowed their blasters, not to mention the hundreds, thousands, that threw themselves into what battles remained without armor, and without will. The Empire didn't care about the loss. They weren't people. They'd never been people.
"I value your lives."
They'd been people to him.
He lifted his hands up and scrubbed his face. Wolffe breathed in shakily, and closed his eyes. Plo Koon was a kind person. And he didn't deserve it. He didn't fucking deserve it.
"We're expendable."
"Not to me."
Wolffe punched the mirror.
He gasped as he stared down the drain of sink, fighting the tightness in his chest with each breath he took. His legs shook beneath him, barely keeping him up, and he hung onto the edge of the sink to keep from falling.
The broken shards of the mirror burned as they dug into his skin. Hot drops of blood dripped from his hand, staining the pristine white of the sink below. Slowly, he pulled his hand away. Got his breathing under control. Forced his legs to support his weight.
He stood up straight, and his eyes found his reflection once again.
The mirror hadn't shattered completely. Save for the few spiderweb cracks here and there, it had remained mostly untouched.
All except for the spot right over his cybernetic eye.